


A Hero's Journey

by AFereldanMage



Series: The Warden's Tale [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Blood, Blood Magic, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Forbidden Love, M/M, Magic, Multi, Unrequited Love, magi origin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-04-30 09:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5158355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AFereldanMage/pseuds/AFereldanMage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him."<br/>Solona Amell grew up with that one sentence looming over her entire life in the Circle of Magi; mind a life inside the tower walls was the only life she had ever known. Until the Blight begins 9:30 Dragon; and the day following her harrowing leads a chain of events to the biggest change in life she would ever face. Is it fate, or is chance... only time will tell.</p><p>But in that time, she knows but one thing-- if she can't stop the Blight, then no one will.</p><p>[please consider warnings]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue~The hubris of man

 

_And so is the Golden City blackened_

_With each step you take in my Hall._

_Marvel at perfection, for it is fleeting._

_You have brought Sin to Heaven_

_And doom upon all the world._  

**-Canticle of Threnodies 8:13**

 

* * *

 

 

The chantry teaches us that it is the hubris of men which brought the darkspawn into our world. The mages had sought to usurp heaven... but instead, they destroyed it. They were cast out, twisted and cursed by their own corruption. They returned as monsters; the first of the darkspawn. They became a Blight upon the lands... unstoppable, and relentless

 

The Dwarven kingdoms were the first to fall, and from the Deep Roads, the darkspawn drove at us again and again, until finally we neared annihilation.

 

Until the Grey Wardens came. Men and women from every race; warriors and mages; barbarians and kings. The Grey Wardens sacrificed everything to stem the tide of darkness and prevail.

 

It has been four centuries since that victory, and we have kept our vigil. We have watched and waited for the darkspawn to return... but those that once called us heroes have forgotten. We are few now, and our warnings have been ignored for too long.

 

It may even be too late. For I have seen with my own eyes what lies on the horizon.

 

_Maker… help us all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "So much about you is uncertain... and yet I believe. Do I? Why, it seems I do!"  
> \--Flemeth; Dragon Age Origins


	2. The Harrowing

“ _On a cliff overlooking the dark waters of Lake Calenhad stands the tower fortress that is home to the Circle of Magi. This tower is the only place in Ferelden where mages may study their art among others of their kind. Within the high stone walls, the Circle practices its magic and trains apprentices in the proper use of their powers._

_But the Circle Tower is as much a prison as a refuge; the ever vigilant Templars of the Chantry watch over all mages; constantly alert for any sign of corruption._

_This gilded cage is the only world one mage has ever known._

_Found to be sensitive to magic at a young age, she was torn from her family and grafted here as an apprentice. Now, that apprenticeship is nearly over and all that remains is the final test: the Harrowing._ ”

  

* * *

 

 

They awoke her in the middle of the night-- or rather _he_ did. Solona was gently shaken awake by Hadley as another Templar, his face obscured by his helm, held the candle. For ones being clad in heavy armour, they were remarkably silent. Solona was still half asleep, wincing as the light hurt her eyes.

 

She finally realised who it was, “Hadley, what are you doing… what’s going on?”

 

The Knight-Captain looked rather grave as he watched her wipe the sleep from her eyes. “You have to wake up and dress, it’s time.”

 

His words were soft, but spoken like a warning; exactly as Irving had spoken to her this morning. But the young apprentice was only half-awake as she spoke, “Time—time for what?”

 

He gave her a look, and her eyes opened fully, bringing the young woman back to her senses. She was wide awake now with realisation as she averted her gaze. “Oh.”

 

* * *

 

 

They waited outside as she silently, _she tried and nearly fell over_ , to slip back into her apprentice robes… why they had to be so fancy; she would never know. And as she slipped on her shoes and approached the door, her magic faintly swirling bout her head as she tied it back into a bun without even touching it; the wonders of magic without the pins—despite the fact it would hold until it was mussed. As the door was shut silently, she was led down the hallways and up the steps. Ground floor-- the second floor and the third floor… a couple of Templars muttered “good luck” as she passed them.

 

She glanced at Hadley who raised an eyebrow. “Are you okay?”

 

The look she gave him earned a small smile and she sighed, “Any chance you could shut your men up with the whole “good luck”, the more they say it, the more nervous I feel.”

 

He paused in his steps and stopped her, his hand resting on her shoulder. Of all the Templars in Kinloch Hold, Hadley was the only one Solona knew she liked and could trust. He was the one, after all, who brought her to the Tower, all the way from the Free Marches… from a city he wouldn’t name. A city she could and would never remember, she was so very young when her magic developed… _too young,_ Wynne had said once, too young to believe to be a mage. But Hadley made a promise to her Mother, and he had watched her ever since.

 

“I know you, Solona,” he said. “I’ve watched you grow up in this tower, I watched you progressed and you _know_ you’re one of the most talented mages in the Circle.”

 

She smiled, a little. And he cupped the side of her head, his thumb tracing the remains of scars on the left cheek-- the story behind them was a big one, and also told the story of how Hadley became Knight-Captain in the first place. He blatantly ignored the Templar with them who was growing impatient. “You’ll be fine.”

 

Coming from Hadley, she believed him and they continued upstairs, through the fourth floor and the Templar quarters and finally outside the Harrowing Chamber. Then she froze.

 

“Who’s in there?” she asked turning to Hadley as his companion stepped forward. “You’re not coming in with me?”

 

There was fear incited within her heart. And he smiled encouragingly. “No, I’m sorry. But the First Enchanter is in there, and the Knight-Commander, a few other Templars-- you’ll see for yourself.”

 

She guessed the truth; Solona always knew when the truth wasn’t being told to her. Hadley didn’t want to see her cut down if she _failed_. The exact moment she truly needed a friend to comfort her-- she was frightened now and the Templar had furtively push her towards the stairs, tearing her eyes off Hadley and walking up towards the big door, and it was opened.

 

* * *

 

 

She had heard a lot of tales about the Harrowing chamber-- told to scare her and the others as children. Apparently the walls were stained with the blood of those who failed their harrowing… abominations and mages corpses littering the floors… all lies. The floors and walls were clean… but the chamber was big; Solona was in awe. Forgetting her fear as she looked around and then it returned as she spotted First Enchanter Irving, _her mentor_ , and Knight-Commander Greagoir waiting and watching her. She quickly hurried towards Irving, feeling ever slightly safer as Greagoir stepped forward.

 

“Magic exists to serve man and never to rule over him,” Those bloody words, she thought. A constant reminder of why she stuck in the tower in the first place. “Thus spoke the prophet Andraste as she cast down the Tevinter Imperium, ruled by mages who had brought the world to the edge of ruin.”

 

She glanced at Irving, who gave a small but encouraging smile, and she felt a little better. After quick glance around she spotted the other Templars, four had helms but one—only one did not. _Maker’s breath_ , she thought, it was Cullen. He met her eyes if but quickly, but she saw fear and looked away.

 

“Your magic is gift, but it’s also a curse.” The Templar Commander continued, Solona wanted to snap at him, he was repeating stuff she already knew-- but this wasn’t her nature, so she remained silent as he spoke. “For demons of the dream realm--the Fade--are drawn to you, and seek to use you as a gateway into this world.”

 

Irving finally spoke, “This is why the Harrowing exists. The ritual sends you into the Fade, and there you will face a demon armed with only your will.”

 

She blinked, they were _what_! As if fending off demons who plagued her dreams wasn’t enough? They were sending her to _fight one_! They were watching her closely; she glanced at Irving-- if he were worried he hid it well. She looked to Greagoir. Whose face was cleansed of all emotion, as it always was, there were times she truly despised the man-- he would do anything to get rid of her. Solona was not the type to look for trouble, but it always found her eventually. It drove the man mad.

 

She brazened up, she wouldn’t look weak now, especially in front of the Knight-Commander, she had to succeed, and she had to make Irving proud. She was his apprentice after all, his only apprentice, and after all he’d done for her and after all she had accomplished as a mage… she couldn’t let him down now-- but still, “What happens if I cannot slay the demon.”

 

Greagoir nodded, “It will turn you into an abomination and the Templars will be forced to slay you.”

 

Solona had often forgot the man was only doing his duty, but that didn’t mean she liked him any more than she already did—which was to say the least. _No, I won’t-- I will succeed; this I swear unto the Maker… if he even exists_. Maker, she hated the Chantry.

 

Irving placed a hand on her upper back and gestured to the stand in the middle of the room, it had strange looking bowl on top, having and having noticed it as she walked in-- she knew exactly what was in it.

 

“This is Lyrium; the very essence of magic, and your gateway into the fade.” Greagoir told her. And Irving turned her to face him.

 

“The harrowing is a secret out of necessity, child. Every mage must go through this trial by fire.” He told her quietly. “As we succeeded so shall you.”

 

He sounded as uncertain as he was certain, and Solona realised he was actually afraid, afraid for her. “Keep your wits about you and remember the Fade is a realm of dreams. The spirits may rule it, but your own will is _real.”_

 

His words didn’t comfort Greagoir as they did her, “The apprentice must go through this test alone, First Enchanter.” He said coldly, and gestured to the pedestal. “You are ready.”

 

Solona met Irving’s eyes and nodded her head, “I am ready,” she whispered, trying to offer a smile and he stood back as she turned towards the pedestal. The essence of magic, Lyrium-- it sang to her, it was a sweet song…

She paused in front of the stand, watching the swirling magic inside the bowl-- first blue then colourless and blue again, it was confusing. Her hand shook and she took a deep breath as she reached into it—clenching her fist to control her fear. She could do this.

 

“I can do this.” She whispered softly to herself and dipped her hand into the Lyrium, and raised it to her face to look at it… then there was a flash of light as the Lyrium began to glow, startled she stumbled back with a gasp… and then darkness consumed her after the light.

 

The others in the hall winced at the bright light, and when it faded, Solona was on the floor. Greagoir exhaled slowly and turned to his left, looking directly at the young Templar. Cullen’s eyes snapped to Greagoir and flinched as the Knight-Commander jerked his head towards Solona.

 

“We all do our duty, Templar.”

 

Cullen tried his best to wipe any trace of emotion from his face. He was certain he was failing and badly. He drew his sword and slowly walked over to where the unconscious-- no sleeping mage lay. She looked peaceful… and he extended the sword over her, the tip of the blade pointing directly above her chest-- above her beating heart.

 

And they waited; meanwhile in the Fade, Solona awoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "So much about you is uncertain... and yet I believe. Do I? Why, it seems I do."  
> \--Flemeth; Dragon Age Origins
> 
> \--Finally got around to writing my Warden's story. There will be a lot of changes happening, including with NPC's from the game, compared to the game. For one thing, my Warden [Solona] has a back-story that will be enforced into the story along the way. Other 'potential' Wardens will be more directly mentioned, a couple will even appear [I headcanon that not all are dead] and I'm leaving out any Warden/Companion romance-- for now. 
> 
> To whoever reads. Please enjoy x


	3. Awake in dreams

She awoke with a gasp and stumbled as she got up… only to tumble over again as she grasped her sense once more. She glanced around as she tried to catch her breath after the minor shock-- was this-- was she in the _Fade_? She wasn’t quite sure how to describe her surroundings as she slowly and more steadily than before began to stand up, brushing her robes down and pushing a lock of hair out of her face… _it came down again_ , she groaned and plucked her head band--which was in fact a part of her belt-- from around her waist and gathered her hair up leaving a few locks of fringe to frame her face as she tied it up.

There Lyrium podium was under some kind of stone arch or was it one of those things, she thought, the ones where people-- normal people-- would have tea under in the summer. She didn’t know but it was there, and empty of Lyrium. Solona glanced sideways, briefly recalling her lessons about the Fade.

 

The Fade reflects the world around, and as thus even memories and events of history. She had met a Spirit of Curiosity once, which ended in the most bizarre dream she ever had and had also resulted with the fact she would never _ever_ look at Greagoir the same way again. She snorted ever so lightly at the memory-- the one of the few dreams that she remembered so vividly, Maker, she would never be able to forget.

 

_No, must focus-- dream world, must fight demon._ Demon, she wondered as she looked up at the strange statue-- _Tevinter, it must be_. Demon… envy, despair, rage, desire, pride… the list would go on. Demons were creatures of the Fade which reflected such things, they were malevolent spirits—and very dangerous. But there were benevolent spirits too, spirits of curiosity, wisdom, love, compassion and so the list goes on. She turned away and after a quick look around, found a slope which probably led down and to somewhere.

 

Only she got halfway down, it was only a small slope, and she slipped-- falling on her hindquarters. “Ouch!” She winced—standing up again. _Why is it always me?_

 

She came around the corner of the strange--rock-- _whatever it was_ , only to fly back around the way she came as a ball of light came out of nowhere towards her. She barely had time to peek around the rock to see just _what_ was trying to kill her before another hit where she was hiding. From what originally formed as panic turned into flattened annoyance upon realising it was only a wisp, which were usually rather friendly and playful around her.

 

_Demon’s influence, no doubt_ , she told her herself as she gazed at her raised hand and focussing her energy within her palm. There was wave of static energy rippling across her skin as the orb, _arcane bolt_ to use its actual name formed before her and she whipped around the corner, aiming and throwing it at the intended target. It took nearly four more shots before the wisp dispersed into thin air.

_Poor thing_ , she thought, it was pity that drove her forward. How many other harmless spirits are under the demon’s influence?

 

She happened across two maybe three more wisps, for a mage so talented, she was terrible at mathematics and at times, so was her memory. Luckily it didn’t affect her magical training-- no, it was _definitely just the maths_.

 

The fade was a curious place, and she had no idea where this path was leading her…

 

“Someone else thrown to the wolves, as fresh and unprepared as ever,” A voice suddenly said-- out of nowhere. Solona jumped and froze looking around, then her eyes landed on something before her, rather close to the ground- it was a mouse, a very _large_ mouse.

Solona wasn’t afraid of the mice, not like some of the others in the Circle. She looking a little closer, it looked friendly – wait what was a mouse doing in the fade?

 

And the damned thing spoke, “It isn’t right that they do this, the Templars. Not to you, me, anyone.”

 

The notion startled her, and tripping over her robes, she fell back on her behind. “You’re a talking mouse!”

 

The mouse seemed amused by the statement, “You think you’re really here; in that body? You look like that because you _think_ you do.”

_Keep your wits about you and remember, the fade is a realm of dreams, the spirits may rule it but your own will is real_. Irving’s words repeated into her mind. _I must be careful_ , she told herself.

 

The mouse sighed, “It’s always the same. But it’s not your fault. You’re in the same boat I was, aren’t you.” And at that there was a flash of light, _shapeshifting?_ It was the dream realm after all. And suddenly there was no mouse but a man in mage robes standing before her. No mage she recognized… if he was even a mage.

 

“Allow me to welcome you to the fade.” He said to her, she detected a hint of sarcasm. “You can call me… well, Mouse.”

 

_Mouse…_ He bent down to help her up, she took his hand and he pulled her up. “Thank you, Mouse. Not your real name I take it.”

 

He shook his head, “No, I don’t remember anything from… before.”

 

There was stab of minor pity that etched into her heart before Mouse looked rather angered, “The templars kill you if you take too long, you see. They figure you failed, and they don’t want something getting out.”

 

He clenched his fists in his anger.

 

“That’s what they did to me, I think. I have no body to reclaim. And you don’t have much time before you end up the same.”

 

Solona gulped bit of vomit back down, trying to calm her nerves. “What am I supposed to do exactly?”

 

“There’s something here, contained, just for an apprentice like you. You have to face the creature, a demon, and resist it, if you can.”

 

“That’s your way out. Or your opponent’s, if the Templars wouldn’t kill you. A test for you, a tease for the creatures of the Fade.

 

“Anything can die. I doubt it’s as simple as that.” She said, folding her arms across her chest.

 

“You would be a fool to just attack everything you see. What you face is powerful, cunning.” He told her. Solona cocked an eyebrow; _I don’t attack unless something attacks me first!_  “There are others here, other spirits. They can tell you more, maybe help. If you can believe anything you see.

 

There was a pause. “I’ll follow, if that’s all right. My chance was long ago, but you… you may have a way out.”

 

“Very well, Mouse.” And she had barely taken a few steps before sighing and turning around upon a flash of light, the idiot was a mouse again… honestly? And she bent down towards Mouse.

 

He looked up in confusion, “What are you… H-hey! What are you doing!” he cried, startled, as she picked him up, eager not to get bitten front up-- she grabbed his tail. “Hey, ow hey; that is my tail!”

 

And then he froze as she allowed him to hop of on her shoulder, “You may be large for a mouse, but I’m larger than you if you’re going to remain in Mouse form, henceforth-- I’ll let you ride on my shoulder for a bit.”

 

“Oh, um, thanks,” and then he scrambled a bit and sat on her head. “Wow, check out this view!”

 

She suppressed a groan which was equalled by amusement; well this is going to be interesting. “I’m Solona, by the way, Solona Amell.”

 

“Well, Solona Amell, I look forward to travelling with you through the paths of the Fade.”

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t long before they encountered a Wisp, _again_ , and another after looking at an interesting vase upon a hillside-- a funny looking hillside. Solona also had an  _injured_ shoulder and scalp-- mouse clung for dear life during the minor battles with the wisps.

 

Looking up in the distance, Solona was in awe-- _the Black City_ , the seat of the Maker, “Impressive isn’t it.”

 

Mouse hummed, a little bored.

 

“I’m no devout, but I do wonder if there ever truly was a Maker.”

 

“We shall never know—you especially if you don’t _hurry up_!” for a mouse he was surprising loud. Solona jumped a little, startled and winced as Mouse gripped onto her hair to prevent falling off.

 

Onwards then.


End file.
